Tomorrow We May Die
by SpideyHawk
Summary: "I've done some pretty bad things in my time. Some pretty good too. Marinate it with some good old fashioned love, and then top it all off with some pretty stupid things and you've got yourself my life story. Lots of things I wish I could change or take back, nothing I can do about it though." A story about a former 1st Recon Sniper and nomad Kurt Hassel. (O.C.)
1. Prologue

A grey Wasteland. An expanse of land like no other. Ruined buildings litter the surrounding space. Everything still shades of grey. Although the First Bomb fell long ago, ash lingers. Dust and ash, ruins and trash, the good ol' U.S. of A. is no longer. Neither are many places these days. Countries, Cities, Towns, Homes, all destroyed in what was a never ending war. Now we have no choice but to stop fighting in order to keep what semblance of our lives remain. The Great War tore the world apart. The only thing that stays constant no matter where you go, it's all one big Wasteland and everyone will piss on your door step for a chance to live another day. Race, Sexuality, Gender, that's no longer a problem. You can be anyone you want…..unless you're a person. Then you can't be trusted. Towns back everyone within a town and sometimes other surrounding cities, but raiders, gangs, scavengers, and drifters make it hard to see a friendly face in the crowd. Laws don't exist any longer. People make their laws and punish those how they see fit. Our War is no longer Country Versus Country, its Neighbor Versus Neighbor. Your own mother would sell you for a drink of pure water or food instead of this irradiated shit. Life is bland. The once thriving world has reset itself and we are the ones who have to pick up the pieces. Radiation pours from almost every water source and the random toxic waste dumps scattered around, not to mention the sewers where vile and horrible Ghouls take refuge. Men and women who have been exposed to an ungodly amount of radiation and haven't had the good fortune to die yet. Those who have their sanity are ridiculed by their looks. Well then I guess "Race" is bad, if you count Ghouls or Mutants a race. The ten foot Mutants storm streets, killing anyone in their way. They claim territory and take what they please; unless someone is lucky enough to kill them before they rip you apart or take you for God knows what. Rads have infected and changed animals into beasts of all kinds. Many of these animals attack anything on site, making travel and trade an issue for all. Not that it wasn't already hard to do. The beasts themselves may stay away from towns and roads, the same can't be said for people. Many have no problem stealing and holding up merchants just so they can get by another day. Murder doesn't mean much anymore. Although "illegal" in most towns, the streets, valleys, and mountains connecting them are fair game. Not many people would see you and even fewer would take action against it. Why should they, it's not their business and no one wants trouble when there is so much of it already. It's sad really. You'd think acts of terrorism would bring the U.S. closer together, but that's not what happened. It tore everything apart and the world went to hell and, albeit slowly, back.

I suppose all this coming from a stranger is well… strange so let me introduce myself. Major Kurt Hassel of the New California Republic 1st Recon Snipers. Well, former Major, I quit the NCR in order to move to the "Capitol" of the U.S. and start a life here. I was stationed and served in what is now known as the Mojave Wasteland in the Mojave Desert. A mission went horribly wrong there and people were killed…innocents. Because of this our old Major was relocated and I got promoted to major. But after that, command realized they didn't like me as much as they thought. Mainly cause I do things my way. The safe way, sure it's not textbook or to a T, but the mission always gets done and in a safe way for my men and women, and innocents, this policy was adopted by me after that mission I told you about. I didn't want a repeat of what happened there, but that's a story for later. So when I wanted to step down, command almost graciously accepted. I wasn't hard to replace either, Dhatri wanted my title for a long time, he's a good guy though so at least it was given to capable hands. Well after that I packed my things and left. Headed east till I got to D.C. and found a place to settle down in, an old battleship made city, aptly named Rivet City. Being one of the only stable places in the D.C. wastes, I had little choice. It's cold, dark, cramped, and dull, even when you're working security.

* * *

**Authors note: First story/post! Thank you all for reading, I am very excited to post my stories here. I do not own Fallout or any of their ****characters but any and all O.C.'s are owned by me. Please R&R, comments' questions' and criticisms are welcome! Chapter 1 will be up shortly!**

**~ Spidey**


	2. Chapter 1

A gunshot rings out across the Wasteland. A Radscorpion's glowing yellow blood bursts from its' blue shell.

"You've got to be bored of this Kurt."

Roy Olson stands next to me while I crouch on the deck of the airship. With a squeeze of my index finger, my .308 Scoped hunting rifle rings out again, another Radscorpion dead.

"What do you mean Roy? Tired of killing these mutated freaks? Nah, making the Wasteland a safer place can't get old."

"You know exactly what I mean. You went from leading one of the best NCR squads, to sitting on an airship, taking potshots at mutated animals and the occasional raider.

"Hey cut me some slack, sometimes there are Super Mutants"

"Kurt, come on. You can't tell me you don't miss the NCR, or that they couldn't use you."

"I left for a reason," I said somberly, "It was my time."

"Bullshit! You're still in your prime; you're pissin' it away here."

"That may be, but I wouldn't want you to miss me," I said with a turn of my head. Roy wasn't amused.

"Oh cut it out," I stood, holstered my rifle to my back, ran my fingers through my short black hair, readjusted my sunglasses, and looked out onto the Wasteland. "I like it here. It's not a big deal, you and I both know I can't just go back, I'd have to work my way back up and I don't have that amount of time. If they needed me so badly, they would have stopped me from leaving."

"I think you're just being difficult. Besides, what about your old partner, what'd he do?"

"Well, they thought I was being difficult too, but as for him, he left too. We decided together, we didn't want to leave the other there, but we both couldn't stay, so we left."

"You told me that. What I mean is why don't you find out where he is? Get back together and go back?"

"What, you sick of me," I faced him and asked with a chuckle, "And it's not like I can just give him a call or send him a letter."

"You and I both know that you keep in contact. You're trying to tell me you don't send him e-mails and vice versa, yet again, bull….wait for It.…shit!"

I turned to face the Wasteland again, "It's not happening Roy. This is where I belong now. Maybe someday I'll go back and help clean the Mojave, but on my own, not with the NCR. They can't handle my 'Loose Canon Attitude'"

"Alright well…..our shift is over in 5; you want to get a bite to eat afterwards?"

"Actually, yeah. I would, why don't you go and find a table, I can handle 5 minutes by myself."

"Sir," with a chuckle and a sarcastic salute Roy turned and left.

"Smart ass," I yelled to his back. And then, it was quiet. Besides the light breeze and the soft click of metal from the security guard on the balcony below me, it was absolutely silent. I reflected for a minute on what Roy had said, could the NCR really need me? Would they take me back? Do I want to leave? I decided, "No," to all of the questions and pulled my rifle off my back. Etched into both sides of the stock was the 1st Recon logo and Motto, "_The last thing you'll never see_," I smirked. I did miss the NCR and I missed taking out Caesar's Legion and the Fiends. I missed keeping the peace. Hell, I even missed people shooting back at me.

* * *

**Author's note: Chapter 2 is on it's way. Hope everyone is enjoying the story! **

**~Spidey**


	3. Chapter 2

"The food here sucks," a tired traveler complains. He sits by himself; the man with him went to the bathroom about a minute ago.

"Hey buddy, you don't like it then beat it. I don't charge enough to put up with assholes like you!"

"Nice to see that Gary is cheery today," Roy chuckled from our table. "Gary, give him a break. He's been traveling a long time, how long did you say, four days?"

"…..three," the man muttered.

"Oh that's right, three whole days Gary! Three!"

"Roy, stop. We don't want to piss this guy off."

"Ah he's a pansy, look at him."

"What'd you say about me," the man yelled from across the tables. "You lookin' for a new hole to fill fag?" My head snapped to face him.

"…shit," Roy whispered.

I stood and walked over to his table, "Listen here Rot Teeth, I know my friend was giving you a hard time, but you use that word again, and we can both take a look at those nasty teeth of yours while they're rolling on the floor next to any other appendages I feel like taking off," The man's eyes dart back and forth as he takes in the reflection of his scared face from my glasses. "Have a nice day," I turn and walked to my table, Roy is trying his hardest to not laugh at the man that looks like he's seen a ghost.

"I'm glad you didn't punch him," Roy says with a small laugh.

"He's lucky I didn't. Why don't we eat," with that, we both ate the food Gary had brought us during my little "confrontation" when we were about half way done, Rot Teeth's friend came back from the bathroom, they started talking instantly.

"Bout time, what the hell was he doing in there," Roy asked.

"I don't know, but they keep looking over here, let's just finish and get outta here." As I finished my sentence, Bathroom Boy started walking towards us.

"Fuck," I said under my breath, looking at my food.

He stood beside me, "My buddy told me you're giving him a hard time, I don't take to kindly to that."

"I don't take to kindly to his language."

"My friend can say whatever the fuck he wants, you hear me?"

I ignored him and kept eating, no use in starting a fight when I didn't need to. He came around behind me, using his body to block my chair and keep me from leaving, "I said do you hear me?!"

Without looking up I gave the man a small chuckle of amusement. He slammed both his hands down on our table and started yelling. "Are you deaf?! I won't ask you again fag! DO YOU HEA—," I had enough. I grabbed my fork off the table and without a second thought, plunged it into his right hand. His howls filled the small café area soon after, the tone of his voice bouncing of the interior of the metal boat and echoing throughout one of the inner decks. While he was in shock I grabbed his left arm with mine and while rising out of my chair, twisted it around him and held it behind his back, and used my free arm to pin him down to the table, the side of his face buried in my Brahmin steak. Rot Teeth shot up, knife in hand. He was hell bent on saving his buddy. Roy quickly stood and drew his 10mm. pistol; Rot Teeth stop dead in his tracks.

"I told your buddy not to use that word; I'd hoped that he'd tell you what would happen if he did. Guess not. Roy!"

"Ahem, 'Listen here Rot Teeth, I know my friend was giving you a hard time, but you use that word again, and we can both take a look at those nasty teeth of yours while they're rolling on the floor next to any other appendages I feel like taking off. Have a nice day,'" Roy said melodramatically.

"Thank you. Now, would you prefer to lose your teeth first, or should he go," I motioned towards Rot Teeth with my head.

"I'd like to see you try, why don't we see what the chef says about you beating up patrons?"

Roy laughed at the stupidity of the man, "Yeah Kurt, he's right. We wouldn't want Gary throwing out Rivet City security for keeping the peace, would we Gary," Gary responded with a chuckle.

"Alright guys, I think you understand, now why don't you run a long, find the ship's doctor to bandage your hand, find your rented room, and stay out of trouble?"

"Piss of—," I pulled his arm up higher and pushed his body further into the table.

"That wasn't a suggestion. Get out of here," With that I ripped the fork out of his hand and, ignoring the cries of pain, threw it to the floor. I released his arm and with a small shove, sent him to his friend.

"Kurt? That's your name right? You better watch it," Rot Teeth spat.

"Mhm, I'm really afraid of a pair of traveling clowns like you guys."

"Hey, fuck you," he yelled. He started to charge me with his knife. Roy quickly shot Rot Teeth in his knee, Rot Teeth collapsed with a yelp. I removed my glasses and looked and the man before me, tears in his eyes, clutching his bleeding knee.

"Look, I'm done with you guys. I'll have someone come and escort you to the doctor. I'll also have them put you under arrest for attempted assault. Sound good? Awesome, when I bring your 'shitty food' to you, I'll be sure to have Gary spit in it. Let's go Roy."

I reached into my pocket and left some Caps on the table for Gary.

"Thanks Gary, it was great," I said cheerfully.

I was stopped abruptly by a hand on my shoulder, I had hoped that Bathroom Boy wouldn't try to fight back, guess I wasn't that lucky. I turned and caught his charging left fist with my right.

"Ha, you thugs are all the same." I began to twist his hand; the shock on his face was priceless. With a swift motion I took my palm and smashed it into his face, breaking his nose. I then took his arm, turned and flipped him over my back. Landing with a thud and a groan, the man wheezed for breath.

"I'm done being nice. Stay down and shut up," I yelled. Roy and I left Gary's Gallery. As soon as we were out of ear shot I took my radio off my waste and spoke into it, "Harkness, I need a team to arrest some troublemakers from Gary's. Two men, they also have some injuries that need tending to, one with a bullet wound in his left Patellar Ligament, one with broken Lateral Nasal Cartilage and minor right Mispalmer space damage."

The radio quickly roared back, "Hassel, if I have to tell you not to use medical terms with me again, I'm going to scream."

"Sorry Chief, lower left knee, broken nose, and some minor hand muscle damage from a fork."

"Nice," Harkness said with a chuckle. "I'll have someone go down and pick them up."

"Sorry for the trouble Chief. Oh and this is my fault…again. Don't put this on Roy."

"Hassel, this conversation is over. Once again, you and Olson are fine," my radio hissed with static.

"Alright, guess it's time to head to the barracks," said Roy.

"Yeah, hey I'll meet you up there. There's something I have to do."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll see ya soon."

"Well alright," Roy turned to walk up the stairwell to the Bridge Tower but stopped for a second.

"Hey Kurt," he paused again. "Thanks for taking the blame for the fight."

"Don't mention it; I started it in the first place, so it's only logical for me to have shot him right?"

"I'll make it up to you, but thanks again," he then continued walking up the stairs. The click of metal under his boots grew softer and softer until I heard a hatch door open and finally close. I made my way to the deck.

The cool air pressed into my face as I pushed the hatch open. The upper deck was silent; the night guards didn't make a sound. I walked from the rear door to the port side railing. Lopez stood on the edge, staring out at the Potomac. I felt horrible for the poor man; his wife and kid were killed by raiders. He spiraled into depression; feeling like no one remembers or cares about him. Now all he does is stare out into the River, contemplating jumping and saving everyone from him burdening others.

"You're usually not out this late."

"I think tonight's the night."

"What's on your mind Lopez?"

"Same old, same old. Just like me, nothing new. It's time I just ended it. Fix everything I did wrong."

"You know Lopez; I've done some pretty bad things in my time. Some pretty good too. Marinate it with some good old fashioned love, and then top it all off with some pretty stupid things and you've got yourself my life story. Lots of things I wish I could change or take back, nothing I can do about it though. I came up here to think about a decision I need to make…but…you know…my past may end up making my decision for me.


	4. Chapter 3

_*Seven Years Ago*_

"What are you doing Hassel," Alex asked from his cot. It was late, and our barracks were pretty quiet, I was shocked he was even up. Even for a Rookie, it was late.

"Something I'll thank myself for later." I sat on my cot, my rifle in my lap and my knife in hand. I must of looked pretty stupid with my knife pressed into the stock of my gun.

"There," I put my knife next to me and held my rifle up to enjoy my work. "What do ya think," I turned my gun to face Alex. The insignia of the 1st Recon and their motto freshly carved into my rifle. The scars on his face collected as his smile widened.

"Nice! You should do the other side too," Alex exclaimed. He was a Rookie, which was obvious and obnoxious. He was so excited to be in 1st Recon that he could barely sleep. All Rookies did it; we called it the Rookie Six. The next six months would all be great for him, new team, new customized gun, new location, new Major, and everyone's favorite, the 1st Recon Beret.

We all did that too. Anyone who was semi-good with a sniper rifle strived for a red beret. They showed everyone who you were. The best of the best. We could be anywhere, and you wouldn't know until your head was rolling next to your body. They were our pride and joy, next to our guns of course.

Yes the next six months would be great. Hell, maybe even one or two after. But after that you start to realize it's not all fun and games. We are constantly moving from place to place, wherever the NCR needs us. We wait, and wait, and wait. Then finally we have a chance to take a shot, and usually only one chance. And "cleaning up" the Mojave usually doesn't appeal too many. Killing raiders and Caesar's Legion isn't for everyone.

I glanced at my beret on top of the duffle bag that was next to my bed. "This is where I'm meant to be," I thought. I placed my knife in its sheath, and laid it and my rifle next to my bag. I lay down on my cot facing Alex; he sat on his cot looking at his beret, a huge smile planted on his face.

"Good two months huh Alex?"

"It's great, I love you guys! My parents would be so proud."

"I'll bet," I let out a small chuckle. "So, where are they?"

"In a charred building, rotting."

"Excuse me?"

"Vipers. Burned our home," the web of markings on his face all made sense now. "They waited outside for us when we ran. Tied my dad and me up and made us watch as they raped her, slit her throat and toss her in to the burning rubble. They tortured my dad and myself, I'm pretty sure they would have raped us too had my father not bit one of the Raider's fingers off."

"Off?"

"Off. Took that second to run and never looked back. I have rope scars from the binding," he showed me his arms, scars ran around his wrists.

"Wow….man, I'm sorry. That's horrible."

"That's why I joined the NCR. I won't be satisfied till I see all of their heads explode through my scope, or beat them until their own mother wouldn't recognize their face," he was fuming.

"You know, we aren't about killing Raiders. We're army, we usually do 'clean up' to kill time."

"Then I'll make every second worth it."

I'm pretty sure his eyes flared red as he glared through me. I gave him a second to cool down; He focused on the present and gave me a small smile.

"But now I suppose it's time to sleep, G'night Ku—," He was cut off by the alarm. The entire bunk sprang from their beds and to the floor. Armor flew from bags into the air and onto bodies. The clang on belt buckles rang out as men and women scrambled to get dressed. The clicks of ammo magazines into rifles, and the sound of their bolts locking rounds into place were soon after. We were ready in seconds, storming out of the barracks. The base had an unmistakable light show glowing from the other side of the south wall; shots were being fired back onto us. The men guarding the walls we franticly firing rounds into the sea of light, a young soldier tossed a grenade into the group of attackers.

"Grenade," a man shouted followed shortly by a boom. NCR troops rushed to the top of the wall and to the reinforced garage doors making the makeshift gate. 1st Recon moved in all directions, our teams of two didn't matter in the small space. Red berets dotted the groups of people on the walls, taking shots into the light show.

"Clear the wall," a NCR trooper shouted, a boom and a flash of light soon followed. "They've breeched the south wall!"

"Shit," I cursed from clenched teeth. I ran behind a sandbag barricade and took position, peeking out from the top. Legion forces poured from the gates, shooting at everything in sight. I knew I was at a disadvantage from where I was, but the nearest stairs to the top of the wall was behind a group of Legion. I brought the scope of my rifle to my eye and focused on the head of the leader of said group. He looked over just in time to see the bullet enter his left eye. His blood splattered outward, covering the goggles of one of the Legionaries, he stumbled in shock for a second. I cocked the bolt of my rifle and focused on the shocked recruit. A squeeze of my trigger and he was down too. Two left, and by now, they knew where I was. I pulled the bolt back again, pushing it back into place quickly. The two Legionaries opened fire, their sub-machine-guns spraying bullets everywhere. I ducked behind the bags; bullets hit the wall with thuds and fizzes. A small break in the firing to reload, I jumped up quickly and focused on the advancing men. I shot one in his knee, relocked and took out the other one with a bullet to the head. I jumped over the barricade and ran to the kneeling man, with a yell I brought the stock of my gun to the back of his head, killing him. As I turned to run the stairs a Decanus ran towards me with a machete in his hand. As I went to cock the bolt of my rifle, it jammed. I fumbled to fix it, but the Decanus was gaining ground fast. I looked up from my rifle, prepared to fight the man hand-to-hand but a shot rang out over the rest. A spray of red flew from the man's head; I turned to where the shot came from. At the top of the wall stood my partner, Brian Reed, with a cocky smirk on his face.

* * *

**Author's note: Just to clear some air, when I post "Present Day" in the next chapter and any chapters afterwards, I am referring to Fallout's "Present Day" not any modern times. Thanks for reading!**

**~Spidey**


	5. Chapter 4

_*Present Day*_

I woke up a little bit after eight. It was my day off, but I'd probably go in and volunteer hours anyway. I walked over to the scheduling terminal and signed in.

_Welcome Hassel K._

_You aren't scheduled to work today, enjoy your day off! Remember, you start at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow morning, don't forget to clock in!_

I clicked on my e-mail folder. Two unread messages, "Woo hoo," I said sarcastically.

_From: Subject:_

_Harkness Wanna work next Sunday?_

_Unknown Check this out, it really works!_

I deleted Harkness' message, I would just tell him I would later. I wish I could have deleted the chain message four times over and punched whoever sent it in the face. You'd think people would have better things to do in Post-Apocalyptica. I logged off, already bored with my day off. The day dragged on, I was so bored I went and visited the two travelers on house arrest. They weren't so happy to see me; I got a kick out of Bathroom Boy and his bandages that were wrapped around his upper lip and lower nose, and his hand. Rot Teeth had his knee propped up on his cot while he sat and cried from the pain. After giving them food and some spare Caps from the road they calmed down a bit. I had finally had enough; I was just going to work today. I was assigned entry duty, I muttered another sarcastic, "woo hoo."

I leaned against the hull of the ship; the other guard was a newer, lankier kid. He took the job way too seriously.

"Dude! Get off the thip! It'th not profthsional," his lisp didn't help how unintimidating the kid was.

"Calm down Twigs. This really isn't a big deal. It's just front entrance duty; no one is going to mess with an air carrier filled with security."

"Ah man, come on man! It'th not cool. Look prethentable. Thtand up thraight and don't thouch. You're a guard for Pete'th thake!"

"Man that Pete ith a good guy huh? He'th so great."

"Are you making fun of my lithp?"

"Yeth," I said matter-of-factly. "Hey Thlick, someone's coming. Look Tharp."

"Jackath."

A man in a suit came down the bridge connecting the bridge to the boarding tower. He walked calmly and surely, he knew what he needed. Behind him, a bodyguard in simple leather armor and a hockey mask, he had a large kitchen knife on his waste.

"Can I help you sir?"

"I'm looking for a Mr. Hassel."

"You're kidding me," the new kid said.

"I need him now."

"What for," I inquired.

"I probably shouldn't tell you, but my boss here wants to fight him see? Says it's for old times sake. "

The mask wearing man shoved the suit wearing man with a angered grunt. The man in the suit looked back and apologized up and down to keep the daunting man from causing any more physical harm.

"Well I've been here nearly as long as Mr. Hassel and I don't remember a hotshot in a mask coming here. Kurt and I are pretty close, he's never told me about someone like Him before."

The man in the mask laughed; even while muffled, the sound was chilling.

"It's need to know basis. So if you'll excuse us-"

"I am going to have to ask you to leave," I cut him off.

"Oh pleath, Hathel. Let them path."

"So you're Hassel. Ya hear that Boss?"

Boss let out another muffled cackle and clapped the man in the suit on the back, the man flinched in pain.

"I'm volunteering today, I can get off in an hour. Meet me on the air deck then," I said steernly.

Boss grunted again, and then they pushed past us.

"Boy he thure wath thcary."

A breeze cut the silence. We stood across from each other, no movement, no sound. Roy and the man in the suit stood on the sidelines, staring intently for even the slightest move.

"So how does this work? Are we just going to shoot at each other until one falls?"

Boss grunted in disapproval. He took his knife off his waist and brought it to eye level, he grunted again. Without a word, I took my rifle off my back set it on the deck and pulled my knife from its sheath.

"Alright then, let's get started."

Without warning, Boss charged. He moved with speed I hadn't prepared for, in no time at all he was on me. His knife cut through the stomach of my armor as I barely jumped back in time. I quickly moved to the left to avoid another swipe at me. I hadn't fought someone with such agility in years. I dodged another swing and quickly retaliated with my own. Our blows connected and blades locked. The stark contrast between his kitchen knife and my military combat knife was further emphasized by the grinding blades. A pause in the action, I looked into his eyes; they showed a sense of enjoyment and pleasure. I used all my might to push him back, while he stumbled back I quickly charged forward while swinging my knife as quickly as possible. He dodged most of them, one nicked his arm, and one dug into his mask. A large scratch was etched into the fiberglass, Boss grunted and yelled as he swiped at my arm. I attempted to parry his blade, but the might of his strike sent my knife flying across the deck.

"Shit," I muttered. Boss tried to stab my chest; I quickly moved out of the way and grabbed his arm. With little effort I twisted and jerked his arm, his knife fell from his hand. I placed my foot onto the knife and kicked it behind me while brought my right fist to meet his gut. Our hand-to-hand blows connected and missed in almost equal amounts. He used the force of his blows to force me to the edge of the deck. I knew I couldn't keep backing up or I'd be sent off the edge. He continued to dig into me until I finally saw my opportunity. His right fist cocked back, ready for the final hit. He swung his fist forward and I dodged just slightly out of the way. With a slight push, I sent him over the edge. He fell and grabbed the edge of the deck, holding himself up. I looked into his eyes again, enjoyment still filled them.

"I'll help you up, but I want answers. Understand?"

He let out a small grunt. I took his hand and helped him up onto the deck. As soon as he was stable on the deck he reached into a pocket on his waste. He pulled a pistol out and aimed it right to my face.

"You're kidding me," I put my hands up, trying to figure out how to get out of this one.

"Kurt!" Roy's voice priced the air. It was soon followed by a gun shot and a yell. I took the single second of pause to act. I swatted the gun out of Boss' hand and in an instant he pushed me back. I fell back and rolled to absorb the shock, my gaze shot behind me to see if Roy was ok. In a pool of crimson laid the man in the suit, Roy stood over him in shock. I focused on Boss, He chuckled again.

"Good fight Kurt," he said as he pulled the mask off his face. The fiberglass hit the deck with a thud, shattering from the previous cut. There stood the man to whom I owed my life twenty times over, Brian

"You son of a bitch," I muttered as I stood up.

"Sorry, Legion spy. I was told to take him out before I gave you the real message."

"And that is?"

"It's time to go back," he said it so calmly, I didn't believe him. I looked at him in disbelief; his stern look back at me told me he was serious.

"You're serious?" He nodded.

"When?"

"Now. He can come too, we need men," he motioned to Roy.

"It's up to him."

"I'll do it," Roy said without hesitation.

"Good, here." He tossed Roy a small ball of black cloth. Roy un-wrapped the cloth, letting the wind take it into the air. In his hands he carried an unmistakable red beret.

I packed my bag in silence. After I was done, I had only one thing left to do. I opened my footlocker one last time, inside was my 1st Recon beret. I lifted it from its home and gave it a look over.

"Just like I remember," I smirked. I placed it on my head and grabbed my rifle.

"Let's go," I said. I led Roy and Brian out of Rivet city. It was going to be a long walk to New Vegas.


	6. Chapter 5

_*Seven Years Ago*_

"That's twelve," Brian shouted as another Legionnaire fell, their head newly filled with lead.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen," I responded

"Sixteen."

A game we played more often than we probably should. In the heat of battle we couldn't help but show off. How many we killed, points for how we killed them, how many in one shot, the variety of guns, you never knew what we would decide on. Yet there was something about counting straight kills that got us almost every time. It annoyed the rest of the NCR, 1st Recon less than the other branches, but it did none the less. Often it would end a tie, or with us both pulling our triggers at the last enemy, unsure of who sank the shot. We almost relentlessly got flak for our petty but effective way of coping with killing a man.

The Legion attack had been sudden and surprising. They were either uninformed, or stupid, of the 1st Recon presence here. The red berets dotting windows, walls, and the ground below gave each NCR trooper a refined sense of rally and drive. Troopers crooned upon hearing that there was 1st Recon present. The sounds of hunting rifles sang out in a different tune over the ambience of machine gun roar.

Brian and I stood back to back on the top of the wall. Legion forces had started to rush the stairs. Taking opposite sides, Brian and I fired into the waves of Legion, quelling the onslaught slowly but surely. Our voices called out to the other, calm and cool, announcing the number of men we had put down. A small chuckle escaped Brian's mouth.

"What's so funny?"

"There isn't a lot of things more satisfying then watching men get knocked off stairs by their newly limp buddies."

I couldn't help but laugh. I was thinking the same thing as I was taking down the men on my side. "Switch," I yelled.

In fluid motions, Brian and I turned over our shoulders and continued our circle. I brought the scope back to my eye and downed another man. It seemed as though there was no end to the Legionnaires. Bullets wizzed around Brian and I, none close enough to hit us.

"I swear they try to shoot everything but people," Brian joked. As the words left his mouth I felt an immense pain in my right thigh. My leg gave out from under me and I dropped to a knee. My rifle fell from my hands, falling just beyond my reach.

"Shit," I screamed. I pulled my 10mm. pistol from the holster on my thigh. I emptied a magazine into the men approaching Brian and me. As they fell, more took their place.

"Are you kidding me? I just want my gun."

I wasn't sure if Brian heard what I said, if he heard the sudden change of gun caliber, or if he happened to look back, but he had turned around and started taking shots at the new men. I took the few seconds I had to reach into one of the pouches on my belt and pulled out a roll of bandages and an extra magazine for my pistol, I wrapped some tightly around the wound. It would do for now.

I reloaded my gun and looked down the sights, only a few remained. I started shooting again taking down as many as I could.

"You alright," Brain asked.

"That fucker ruined my kill count, now I have to catch up."

"Yeah good luck with that. 60"

* * *

**Author's note: Alright, that's all I've got for now. Let me know how you feel about it, leave any questions, comments, criticisms, and concerns in your review! Thanks for reading!**

**~Spidey**


End file.
